


taking the black

by Poose, seven_hells (Poose)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bloodplay, Bondage, Captivity, F/M, Face Slapping, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 16:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/Poose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/seven_hells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the kinkmeme prompt: Asha takes Jon as her salt husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	taking the black

Asha's men took women for themselves, upwards of two or three apiece, but there was only one man that she wanted. She fought him on the rocks of the Stony Shore, a crow all in black down from the Wall, and the boy had skill with a blade, she'd grant him that much.  But her feet were more nimble on the sea-slick rocks, and she was quick enough when he fell, into the water. The wet weight of his heavy cloak dragged him down and he thrashed like a fish might as she hauled him to a piece of shale with her blade at his neck.   
  
A quick nick drew blood beneath his ear. He struggled again.   
  
"Come with me," she said, "Or I'll cut your balls off."   
  
The boy writhed, and he would not yield until she bashed him on the side of the head with a flat rock.  "Yield," she laughed, at the sprawled body. She rolled him onto his back -- still alive, breath slowed but warm -- and called for two of her oarsmen to bring him to her quarters.   
  
She feasted her crew that night on crab claws and beaten biscuits. The innkeep thought to question her command, so she kneed him in the balls and swore to drink his cellars dry.  When she left the men to their endless supply of ale and cider, she returned to her ship, where her prisoner was awake, snarling at the thrall trying to feed him onion broth. His wounds had been dressed.   
  
"Let me go," he said, defiant as ever. "I am a man of the Night's Watch." 

  
"I don't give a flying fuck who you are," she said. "All that matters is that you belong to me now. I have stolen you, and you're mine. That's all there is."   
  
When he protested with a squawk, she slapped him and shoved the rope gag back in his mouth.   
  
"Leave us," she told the pale girl with the soup. "We have business, you and I," she told the boy she had beaten, had taken, the boy whom she now had captive. He had torn the sheets from the bed in his struggle to free himself from the hempen ropes that tied him to the driftwood frame. They tangled beneath his body, under his bare back. His chest heaved as he pulled at his restraints and his bruises seemed to wink at her. It got her blood up to watch him twist and fight.   
  
"A sailor knows how to tie a good knot," she said, casually. "You'll not be getting free of those ropes until I cut you loose. Maybe when you've learned to be good I'll set you free. Or mayhaps you'll stay here to warm my bed, for me to use you after the battles. They say a man wants a woman after a fight. But what does a woman want?"   
  
Her lips curved upwards. "A woman wants a man, is what she wants. Are you a man, little crow?"

The boy stared wide-eyed as she stepped out of her leather boots and then stripped off her tunic and breeches. Asha wore no smallclothes beneath. She went to him, the blade in her fist, and straddled him where he lay. His eyes darted with concern down to the bared steel in her hand, which she used not to cut his bonds - not a chance, she liked him like this, tied up for her pleasure - but to trace the lines of his muscles, to investigate what she had laid claim to. He retracted in fear. She liked it, liked the smell of it. Nothing made you feel more alive than the power over another's life, save perhaps a stiff one between the legs. Even better when they went hand in hand.   
  
The blade went with her as she took down his pants.   
  
"I bet my crew ten stags that you'd have black on underneath," she mocked, squeezing through the cloth. She thumbed at the darkening damp spot and he let out a muffled scream into his stoppered mouth.   
  
When she cut him free he bucked against the bed, and she traced a line with the tip around her spoils. A nick or two to make him remember who owned him now. The blood stained his skin, and she licked the wounds with her tongue so they would not clot just yet.   
  
Asha used her hands to estimate the true measure of what she had stolen.  _It would serve._   
  
"You ever been with a woman, crow boy?" she asked, as she rubbed her slit over him, wetting him though he scarce needed it. "Blink once for yes, twice for no."   
  
The black haired boy's eyes went wide as she lowered down but he refused to blink. She slapped him across the face and he closed his eyes well enough then, kept them closed as she took him, claimed him as she did the steel swords of the dead and the storehouses of the smallfolk.   
  
 _Ironborn,_  she thought, as she used her knife to free his mouth. She needed to hear him, to see his lips form into an unwilling gasp of pleasure, as her own thighs ran wet with it, as it mixed with his blood and her sweat. And so she was.   
  
 _I will take what is mine._


End file.
